<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Stress Relief by Nikolai_Knight</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827266">Stress Relief</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolai_Knight/pseuds/Nikolai_Knight'>Nikolai_Knight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Exhibitionism, Anal Sex, Classroom Sex, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Oral Sex, references to murder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:02:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolai_Knight/pseuds/Nikolai_Knight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will struggles to work on a case. </p><p>Hannibal suggests an unconventional method of stress relief.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stress Relief</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Alkaid/gifts">Azure_Alkaid</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>‘Will, are you there?’</em>
</p><p>A low knock rapped at the classroom doors. It echoed out with an eerie pattern, with each sound fading softer and softer, until Will struggled to differentiate between the reverberating knock and the beating of his heart. He brought a hand to his chest. He rubbed through the flannel shirt, as his heartbeat picked up speed and merged into the real-world. The sounds collided, mixing with those in his mind . . . <em>sirens, a ticking clock, frantic emergency calls, a rustling of paper</em> . . .</p><p>He screwed shut his eyes, as he stepped back from the desk. He brought his hands tented before his mouth, as he forced slow and deep breaths through his fingers, and his vision focused and blurred in rapid succession, as the series of photographs on the desk merged into one image. A knock sounded once more. Will fought for breath, while a cold sweat broke over his skin, and – as his shirt clung to his flesh – he paced with incoherent steps in an unsteady circle. He waved a shaky hand towards the doors, while his tongue sought to wet his dry lips.</p><p>“I’m busy,” called Will.</p><p>The photographs drifted in and out of his consciousness. A figure on the far left pierced its way though his eyes, where it imprinted itself on his mind, and his trembling hand touched upon the cool glossy print, as he pulled it closer. It was the interior of a police vehicle. There was no trace of blood or bile, and no sign of vandalism, but in the driving seat . . . all alone . . . sat a figure that could have passed as peaceful without a closer examination. It was a man in uniform, with his hands upon the wheel, and his glassy eyes staring straight ahead.</p><p>There was a thick red mark around his neck, which was blue and black around the edges, and his bearded face was at odds with the distinctively large chest, one that gave clear curves to the body even beneath the uniform. The left hand was white. The right hand was black. Will cursed, as he shoved the photograph hard against the wood. It pushed at the other images, creating chaos on the surface of the desk, and soon the pictures were nothing but a jumble of horrors.</p><p>A spark of colour darted about his vision. It broke like a migraine with an evolving aura, while bile burned at the back of his throat, and a sharp draught caught at his sweat-soaked skin . . . a sharp click broke through the classroom . . . he turned towards the sound. A black figure shrouded in shadows dominated the doorway, as antlers sprang from its head, and – acid burning at his tongue – Will choked on the air itself. He brought his hands to his temples, where the skin throbbed fast in time with his heart. A cool voice echoed out with a soft tone:</p><p>“I could have helped you, had you asked.”</p><p>The light returned to the room. Will opened his eyes, as his eyes focussed. The black faded away into a suit made from blue . . . <em>a tie in an elaborate knot, cufflinks that sparkled </em>. . . a long exhale fell from Will, as his mouth contorted into a broken and jerking smile. He stepped back towards the desk, where he pressed his hands against the cool wood. The temperature evened. Will nodded politely towards Hannibal, as he fixed his gaze on the perfectly styled blond-grey locks, and – letting loose a low sigh – Will choked out with a quiet stammer:</p><p>“I’m not – ah – strictly supposed to be working on cases.”</p><p>“Then why the sudden interest in this homicide?”</p><p>“Beverly asked me for a second opinion on the case,” said Will. “The killer seems to be targeting FBI agents, but there is no rhyme or reason to his victims. We’re finding a body a week, with this being around the fifth body so far, and – under usual circumstances – it wouldn’t be too much a cause for concern, just your typical serial killer that comes with the job territory.”</p><p>“Then what makes this case so different?”</p><p>“Well, each ‘body’ has comprised of six different victims.”</p><p>The rush of adrenaline vanished. It brought with it a sudden drop in blood pressure, that had Will faint and weak, and he swayed where he stood, until firm hands grabbed at his hip and elbow, as he was guided into the leather chair just before the desk. He dropped his head back, while he breathed deep and slow. Hannibal perched on the edge of the desk. The poise was at odds with Will’s parted legs and splayed arms, and Will rolled his head as the smile ceased to jerk, before it settled on a more natural position. He looked at the bridge of Hannibal’s nose and said:</p><p>“It seems like each victim has been cut into six pieces; two legs, two arms, torso, and head. The pieces are reassembled into a full ‘body’, with no individual ‘body’ containing body parts from more than one victim, and they’re being reassembled into places associated with law and order.”</p><p>“A very unusual killer indeed,” said Hannibal.</p><p>“The first ‘body’ was found in a police car. The second was in a courtroom. After that, they were found in a lawyer’s office, an FBI safe-house, and a classroom in some second-rate law school. It seems word got out to Freddie Lounds . . . they’re calling him the Jigsaw Killer. I was supposed to be grading papers, but I need to find him . . . I need to <em>know</em> . . .”</p><p>“There are no victims to save, Will. Not this time.” Hannibal pushed at a photograph. “We both know that if the sixth ‘body’ is comprised of body parts, all of which were used in the previous five cases, that all those involved are deceased with no chance of being ‘saved’.”</p><p>“No, but maybe . . . maybe if I can catch him . . .”</p><p>“You can bring justice to them and avenge their deaths?”</p><p>Will pushed his fingers into his eyes. He saw sparks of colour again, but soon dropped his hands onto the arms of the chair, and – holding tight to the plastic – let his eyes roam around that pale face lined with the years of one just past being middle-aged. Hannibal cast his gaze down onto the images, where he moved them with a callused finger back into a semblance of order, and the movements were vague in Will’s peripheral vision, until he rolled his head again and dropped his eyes onto the desktop. A photo moved. It showed an arm in an observatory. Will blinked. The image shifted into an arm of Asian on a mortuary slab. Will ran a hand over his face.</p><p>“Miriam was just an arm,” said Will. “We still saved her . . .”</p><p>“Miriam was not dismembered into six pieces.” Hannibal sighed. “We must also not forget that the Chesapeake Ripper <em>wanted</em> her to be found alive, whereas this killer -? I find it difficult to imagine that he intended for his creations to be anything other than dead on arrival.”</p><p>“Hmm? ‘Creations’? Like artwork . . . like Frankenstein’s monster . . .”</p><p>“Like an overworked man in need of a break, Will.”</p><p>A hand pressed itself to its forehead. He hummed at the cool touch, while he leaned instinctively into the soft skin, and – as the hand slid down to his neck – he nuzzled against the palm. The scent of cologne was faint on his senses, as he half-closed his eyes and let his mind wander. A series of distorted images drifted across his vision . . . they danced and battled with one another, as his eyelids fluttered and fought with the heavy weight, and soon they closed of their own volition, until he jerked himself awake and batted away the hand from his face. He choked out:</p><p>“I’m not feverish, Hannibal.”</p><p>“No, but classes ended hours ago,” said Hannibal. “You’re getting involved in cases that were not allocated to you, and you are allowing those cases to consume you, much at the expense of your mental health . . . when we the last time you took a break today?”</p><p>“I ate the lunch you made at . . . I don’t know . . . two o’clock?”</p><p>“It is past eight o’clock now, Will.” Hannibal hissed. “Why don’t we go home? I will cook you a grand dinner; we can tell Jack to find cover for tomorrow. You know that your mind works differently to others, and you know what happens when you overexert yourself; I do not wish for you to have a relapse, or lose yourself to the darkness to which this job leads.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m finding it hard to relax right now.”</p><p>Hannibal stood. He uttered a soft noise, one that veered between a sigh and a scoff, and let his feet guide him behind Will, where two firm hands fell on his shoulders. The long fingers pressed into the tense muscles, where they moved in familiar circles and dug deep into the various knots, and – slowly sinking into his chair with a low groan – Will smiled, as he allowed the massage to continue and Hannibal to lean close. A warm breath brushed against his ear, sending shivers down his spine, and turned his head until lips brushed against lobe.</p><p>“I can help with that,” whispered Hannibal.</p><p>There was a rustle of fabric. Hannibal slid off his coat, which he draped over the back of the chair, and slowly he pulled the chair away from the desk by a foot. The movement was steady, with the wheels of the chair allowing for easy manoeuvring of his person, but the sensation was akin to flying . . . <em>a disconnect between reality and sensation, the room spinning around him while his body stayed still </em>. . . Will jerked and grabbed onto the arms, as if they would somehow apply brakes to the wheels. A beat skipped in his heart. He threw open his eyes wide.</p><p>Hannibal came to stand before him, between chair and table. The hand on his shoulder slid down the flannel of his sleeve, where long fingers brushed against the crook of his arm, and finally came to stroke at the back of his hand, where the scorching skin-on-skin contact made him instinctively jerk his hand away. Will muttered an apology. Hannibal simply smiled, before he slowly lowered himself to his knees, before his hands rested on firm thighs.</p><p>It sent a shiver through Will. The fabric provided enough of a barrier not to overwhelm, but little enough of one that he could still relish in the sensations . . . the intimacy . . . every time that Hannibal moved his thumb in slow circles, the fabric would move with it and add to the multitude of feelings against his flesh. He licked at his lips, as his legs were parted wide. The hands slid higher, until fingertips brushed at the crease where leg met groin.</p><p>A spark of arousal stuck his groin, as his heartbeat picked up speed. He cast his gaze down to see those hazel eyes with increased pupils, while the greying blond hair sat immaculate, enough that Will’s fingers twitched and his forearms fidgeted on the arms of the chair. There was something deeply erotic about seeing a man so strong – so <em>dominant</em> – on his knees, where he waited for permission to serve and pleasure, with the light hitting him just right. He was so close to Will’s most sensitive part, ready to participate in an act that would leave him at his most vulnerable.</p><p>“I – I need to focus on the case at hand.”</p><p>“Who is stopping you?” Hannibal half-slid under the table. “I am merely offering you a moment of pleasure, as a means to relieve stress from a difficult day, but whether you use that as a chance for a necessary distraction is entirely your decision.” He pulled the chair against the table. “You may look at me as I bring you please, or look to your photographs as you continue to work.”</p><p>“I am <em>not</em> going to look at dismembered corpses while you blow me!”</p><p>“Good, I am relieved to hear that,” teased Hannibal. “You need a fresh mind and rested body in order to work, and I believe that this will help you to relax. We will go home after, with you in better spirits, and tomorrow you may come at the case afresh. Now . . . relax, Will.”</p><p>The fingers came to the button of his trousers. A low – almost inaudible – pop sounded about the room, as they pulled the button through the hole, and Will hitched his breath on sight of those hands above his hardening length, while the sides of palms brushed against his member. The zipper followed at an excruciatingly slow speed, where it revealed the grey of his boxers. A tent started to visibly form, building a lump between the v-shape of fabric, and tingles of anticipation shot like electricity through every nerve, as he panted and licked at his lips. Will choked:</p><p>“Hannibal, we’re in a classroom!”</p><p>“Does that not make it all the more exciting?”</p><p>The callused fingertips pulled at the opening of his boxers. They lightly coaxed out his hardening member, while twitched as cool air struck at hot skin, and his breath came out in low pants, as he stared hard at those hands so deftly holding it within their grasp. They did not stroke or twist or pull, but simply held it with the same gently envelopment one might give a baby bird, while those plump lips came ever closer and warm breath fell moist on his foreskin. It soon grew fully erect, with the curve bringing it up to brush against the flannel above his belly-button.</p><p>The length and girth appeared average to him, but Hannibal gazed with eyes so filled with reverence that tears appeared to prick at the corners, and his cheeks were flushed as his mouth pulled into a warm smile. He slowly ran his fingers of the left hand up the shaft, and – as the fingers brushed the slit of the head – used the fingers of his right hand to repeat the motion on the opposite side, so that feathery touches coaxed pre-come to bead at the head.</p><p>Will brought his hands down. He placed them on the fine and straight locks of hair, kept firmly in place by gel and pomade, and chuckled to see the locks muss out of place, as he ran his fingers through the hair and massaged lightly against the scalp, while coaxing the mouth closer to his cock. The soft lips brushed against the sensitive head. It was a heat preferable to day-to-day touches in social situations . . . <em>trust, intimacy, freedom</em> . . . the hot tongue flicked at the slit, while one hand finally wrapped around the shaft. Will moaned, as the fingers milked him.</p><p>“Hey, Will,” called a voice. “You in here?”</p><p>Will jumped. The instinct to stand was strong, but firm hands held tight to his thighs. They pulled him every closer, until his stomach touched at the edge of the desk, and – as his heart raced – Will darted his gaze across the classroom to the opening door. It moved in slow-motion. A hissed <em>‘fuck’</em> escaped his lips. He spun as much as the desk would enable, but Hannibal remained hidden and trapped beneath the desk, and he held so tight onto those parted thighs that bruises threatened to break on his pale skin. The tongue continued to lap at his erection.</p><p>It flickered fast with controlled motions, before it circled around the slit, and soon it was dipping underneath the head to follow the curve of the mushroom-head around, while lips covered it in its entirety and a perfect pressure followed, as Hannibal suckled at the head. Will hunched forward. He clutched at the edge of the desk, while his forearm pressed on the desktop. The door fully opened. He struggled to focus his gaze, as a visible sweat broke on his forehead.</p><p>Beverly appeared within the doorway. The bright lights behind her illuminated her frame, and made her white coat look all the whiter, until she was almost like an angel in the light. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, as she walked steadily towards the desk. Hannibal swallowed him to the hilt. The head of his cock struck against the back of his hot throat, which contracted and tightened around his weeping tip, and he half-closed his eyes and clutched at the edge of the table, as his lips pressed tight together to stifle a half-formed high-pitched cry of pleasure.</p><p>“Ah, B-Beverly,” choked Will. “Now – Now’s not a good time.”</p><p>“Hmm? You busy or something?”</p><p>“Or something,” muttered Will.</p><p>The cheeks hollowed out, as the tongue licked from base to tip. Will jolted. The jerking of his arms sent the photographs into disarray about his desk, before he cursed and rapidly sought to collect them into a small pile, and – as he rammed them into the manila folder – a bead of sweat dripped down his temple. Beverly stopped on the other side of the wood. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as a prominent nose pressed against his pubic hair, and his cock would throb and pulse each time Hannibal swallowed. Will quickly thrust the files at her and forced a smile.</p><p>“Okay, well, I just stopped by to pick up the case files.” Beverly rolled her eyes. “Jack’s been on my ass about it all day . . . says <em>you</em> are supposed to be on a sabbatical from active duty? I mean, you could have told me, as – thanks to this – he thinks I’ve been pestering you while you’re meant to be taking a break. Still, what’s done is done, am I right?”</p><p>“R-Right?”</p><p>“Hey, you okay? You’re looking a little flushed.”</p><p>“I’ve – er – been getting nightmares again,” said Will. “I fell asleep at my desk. The last thing I remember was looking at was the photographs . . . I – I haven’t any thoughts right now, but could I get back to you? I’ll – ah – take another look tomorrow. I just need some rest right now.”</p><p>Beverly raised an eyebrow. The look was pointed yet warm; her lips quirked into a half-smile, as her eyes ran down from the top of his head to the place where abdomen met table, and there the gaze remained fixed, as her smile fully developed and she shook her head. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hannibal bobbed . . . <em>up and down, slow and steady </em>. . . it was a constant pressure, which sent electricity through his veins, and every nerve sparked in ecstasy. A low gasp tumbled from his mouth, as he bucked a little where he sat, before he remembered his place.</p><p>He choked out an apology . . . <em>‘sorry, stomach cramps’ . . . </em>Beverly merely hummed. The pleasure was building and spreading inside him, as he fought the urge to look down, and – on every upstroke – Hannibal would masterfully tease with his teeth; not enough to cause pain, just enough to add to the multitude of sensations. Beverly clasped the folder to her chest, as she half-turned her back to the desk. Will screwed shut his eyes. He clenched his teeth.</p><p>“Sure,” said Beverly. “I’ll stop by tomorrow?”</p><p>“That . . . That’d be great, thanks.”</p><p>“No problem, Will. See you around, alright?”</p><p>Beverly strolled back towards the doors. Will opened his mouth to let out low and fast breaths, as his hands clutched at the edge of the desk, and soon his knuckles turned white from the pressure, while his cock wept pre-come against the tongue lapping against his slit. He bucked again, even as he choked on the air and writhed within his chair. Beverly paused with her hand upon the doorknob, while she looked back over her shoulder and winked, and finally left the classroom.</p><p>Will gasped out a low: ‘<em>fuck’</em>. He pushed back against the wood, before he looked down at the man between his legs . . . <em>mouth over his member, lips red and swollen, cheeks hollowed</em> . . . Hannibal looked up with blown pupils, while his free hand worked at his erection in turn. It was enough to forced Will close to the edge. He cried out. He threw down his hands and clutched at the greying locks of hair. Will yanked Hannibal off his twitching cock, leaving a line of pre-come and saliva connecting the tip to those lips. He forced slow and deep breaths.</p><p>It took all his strength to push away the chair, as his legs trembled and body grew light, and – with a low growl at the back of his throat – Will stood and reached down to grab at Hannibal’s collar, before pulling him upwards to full height. Hannibal smirked. The trousers slid down to his upper thighs, where they fully exposed his long length and heavy testicles, and both of which sat perfectly nestled in a thatch of blond curls. Will pushed him against the shoulder.</p><p>“Get on the table,” ordered Will. “<em>Now</em>.”</p><p>“My, did I do something wrong?”</p><p>“You know what you did, Hannibal.” Will licked at his lips. “If I’m going to come, I’m going to come inside you. Do you have any idea how easily we could have been caught? I’d never be able to look Beverly in the eye again! You owe me one. If you -?” Will winced. “If you want to?”</p><p>A soft laugh fell from Hannibal. He obediently turned. It wasn’t quite ‘on the table’ that Will envisioned, but it made for a wonderful sight that made his mouth water. Hannibal leaned across the table with his forearms pressed to the wood, while only his buttocks remained exposed in his mostly clothed state, and each cheek was a perfectly formed globe, just slightly paler than the rest of his complexion. A small shine sat between the two cheeks, where Will bit hard into his cheek to realise the sight of the moisture: <em>lubrication</em>. He stepped closer.  </p><p>He pressed his hands to the buttocks, while his cock rubbed between the cheeks. The warmth was familiar enough to draw a long sigh, and they provided the perfect pressure each time he pressed them around his erection, whose head knocked against the winking hole on each upward thrust. Will held back. He slid one arm around that waist, as he pressed a hand just beside Hannibal’s head, and – as he groaned – leaned so that his chest pressed against back. Hannibal bucked back enough that the head of his cock nearly pressed inside. He teased:</p><p>“You ask my permission to dominate me?”</p><p>Hannibal shook his head.</p><p>“<em>Fuck me</em>, Will. I’m already prepared.”</p><p>He looked over his shoulder with a smirk. Will cursed. The expression was one step beyond ‘come-hither’, with eyes like slits and pupils blown wide, and his back arched at a perfect angle, so as to make his buttocks all the more prominent. Will parted the cheeks. He swallowed hard on sight of the winking hole, still wet from lubrication, and he moved his thumb into the groove, where he lightly stroked around the rim in slow circles. Each rotation brought it incrementally deeper, until it pushed inside with little to no resistance. Hannibal sighed.</p><p>It was so warm inside, with the inner walls like velvet. The ridges were prominent, so that he could feel each one the further in that he pressed, and the walls throbbed in time with Hannibal’s heartbeat, until Will could no longer bear the temptation. He slowly removed his thumb, before he moved his hand to his erection and aimed the head straight for the hole. He paused and whispered low to Hannibal a breathless: <em>‘Are you sure you’re prepared?’</em></p><p>“I stretched myself before I came to your classroom.”</p><p>Will needed no more reassurances. He pressed inside. The head of his cock met the most resistance, but – as it slid inside – the rest moved with relative ease and sank to the base. The zippers of his open trousers pressed against the buttocks, while a sticky sweat caused his boxers and shirt to cling to his skin, and he bent low over Hannibal, as he panted into the crook of that beautiful neck. He buried his nose against Hannibal’s collar.</p><p>The inner walls fluttered with an increasing pace around his member, while Hannibal gasped and groaned beneath him, and Will knew – without a doubt – there was no chance to last long inside that perfect channel that moulded itself to him like a glove. Hannibal thrust back against him, before his right hand fumbled and stumbled about the table. It soon found purchase on Will’s hand. It held tight. They entwined their fingers, while Will whispered <em>‘I love you’</em> like a mantra, and clumsily reached beneath him to take Hannibal’s member in hand.</p><p>He pumped it in time to his thrusts. The technique was far from as skilful as Hannibal, without the little twists and turns that always kept him on his toes, but he kept the pressure just right and used the same milking motion that kept Hannibal breathless. He groaned against Hannibal, as he slowly pulled out to the tip and thrust hard back inside. He angled his thrusts. The prostate was always difficult to strike at such an angle, enough that Will swore and thrust upward instead of forward, and soon Hannibal sounded as if to choke on saliva, as he bucked back.</p><p>The rhythm was clumsy and awkward; small squelching noises echoed out, as the lubrication dripped out a little down the crack, and balls gave a thudded sound as they slapped on buttocks, with the sound muffled by his boxers. A few broken words of Lithuanian escaped Hannibal, as he tightened his grip on Will’s hand . . . the pace picked up, while Will jerked and pumped at the erection in his hand, until pre-come wept down from the tip in a steady and continuous stream.</p><p>“I love you,” choked Will. “I love you. <em>I love you. I fucking love you</em>!”</p><p>He thrust once, twice, thrice more inside Hannibal. The pleasure built to a crescendo, as every nerve sparked alive with a thousand flames, and his eyes threw themselves wide open, before they rolled back in his head and sparked with bright bursts of colour. He shuddered inside Hannibal. He bit into that neck to stifle a scream. The fast beating of his heart drowned out all other sounds, until he feared that it might burst or stop, and his hand gave a death-grip upon Hannibal’s, as the overwhelming orgasmic bliss spread through every muscle.</p><p>“Oh, Will,” whispered Hannibal. “<em>Mano meilė</em>.”</p><p>The inner walls tightened to a painful hold. They milked the come from Will, as he spurted rope after rope of hot come inside Hannibal, and Will barely noticed as come trickled down his fingers in turn, before dripping down onto the classroom floor. The extreme bliss settled into a beautiful afterglow, as a wash of warmth – like water in a relaxing bath – flowed over every limb, and his breath finally returned in one long sigh, as he dropped limp over Hannibal. He groaned again, as his vision returned and a smile broke across his face. He nuzzled against the neck.</p><p>“Will, that was perfect . . . <em>nuostabus</em>.”</p><p>Will groaned, as he slowly removed his softening member. It flopped out of the stretched and winking hole in an undignified manner, leaving a mixture of come and lubrication leaking out, where it left a light trail down the pale inner thigh. Will chuckled. He quickly tucked himself away, cursing just a little as his oversensitive member resented further stimulation so soon after climax, and snatched at a tissue from his drawer, where he mopped away the come.</p><p>Hannibal hummed low and deep, almost like purr, and slowly turned to face Will. The exposed member was rapidly deflating, while a few specks of hum stained at his trousers, and he fell back on his elbows, as he dropped back his head to show his Adam’s apple and slight stubble. Will shook his head with a smile, before he pulled up the trousers and redressed Hannibal, until Hannibal – with a raised eyebrow and half-smile – stood tall and elegant before him, with the perfect posture of one that had not been ravished against a classroom desk.</p><p>He reached for his coat and pulled it on to cover the wrinkles and stains. The long fingers deftly moved over the buttons, where a mere glance would show no sign of what was between them, and a hand through his hair managed to return his hair almost to its previous state. A stray few locks fell to create that enviable fringe, and the flush to his cheeks made him look wonderfully alive, enough that Will grabbed at his collar and pulled him close. Will whispered:</p><p>“You know, you haven’t kissed me yet?”</p><p>“Let me rectify that, my love.”</p><p>The soft lips brushed lightly against his mouth. Will gasped. It was all the invitation that Hannibal needed, as his tongue slid inside and explored every inch of his mouth, and – as their tongues fought for dominance – Hannibal pulled Will flush against him, with his grip around that waist so tight that it bordered on painful. He dug a free hand into Will’s hair, while Will had no choice but to press his hands against that broad chest. Hannibal finally pulled away, leaving Will panting and gasping and staring with an unfocussed gaze, as Hannibal growled out:</p><p>“Let us go home, Will. It is my turn to fuck you.”</p><p>“Why wait until we get home?”</p><p>“Because I wish to take my time, Will.” Hannibal groaned. “I plan to lower you down onto the bed, while I drink every inch of you in, and my hands shall explore every inch, before I finger you and suck you and get you so hot and heavy that you <em>beg </em>for mercy. I will spread your legs and climb between, while your fingers clutch and claw at me, desperate to pull me inside.”</p><p>“<em>Jesus</em>, Hannibal,” choked Will. “I – I can’t – I don’t –”</p><p>“Ah, hot and bothered already? Hmm, I will pound into you soft and steady at first, before I fuck you like an animal and make the bed shake and groan with our debauchery, and when you come . . . <em>and you </em>will<em> come . . . </em>you were make my ears bleed with your orgasmic bliss.”</p><p>Will struggled to hold back his returning arousal. A hand was extended to him, gentle and patient, and he took it without any thought, before Hannibal stepped to the side and guided him towards the classroom doors . . . always smirking, always chuckling . . . Will obediently followed. The world ceased to exist, as only Hannibal filled his vision. He failed to notice as the doors were thrown open, sending that bright light cascading over them, but he saw those eyes narrowed and intense and signalling something more . . . <em>need, desire, passion</em> . . . Hannibal growled out:</p><p>“Home, Will. <em>Now</em>.”</p><p>Will smiled and obeyed without question, as he whispered:</p><p>“Like you need to tell me twice . . .”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>